


The Honest of Summers

by LeiMcCartney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prostitute Dean Winchester, Righteous Man Dean Winchester, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 22:31:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19935583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeiMcCartney/pseuds/LeiMcCartney
Summary: On a lonely night, Dean prays. And well, you know what they say. Ask and you shall recieve





	The Honest of Summers

Maybe when Dean had been younger, he used to believe in the whole ‘good things happen if you believe hard enough' crap, but times changed, and there was bigger fish that he needed to worry about. Like how the hell he was going to put Sammy through college as a high school dropout. Thankfully, he had found job as a mechanic but that still wasn’t enough to cover the bills and Sammy’s education, so he had to go to desperate measures to make the extra money. At first, he had been worried that he would have to sell drugs, but thankfully, it never got to that point.

No, instead, he sucked dick in dirty alleyways for men who were too ashamed that they sometimes preferred to be fucked rather do the fucking. It was surprising to see how much hookers made. People apparently really digged his lips and so he found himself always on his knees, mouth slick with spit, looking up with his bright green eyes. It made them go wild.

But it got boring. And sometimes Dean would go home and crawl into bed in the empty motel room he paid for and wondered why he was even doing it. Sammy could probably do this without him—sometimes it felt that he was only doing all of this so that Dean could feel like he was still worth something to Sammy. Because, he sure as hell wasn’t able to provide for him like he used to. It didn’t matter how much money he made or how much dick he sucked and fucked, there was this gnawing sense of emptiness inside of him. Like if there should be more he’s supposed to be doing.

That’s what led Dean here, sitting on the side of the road, watching the cars go by, some zipping dangerously close. A cigarette hung form his lips, burning its way up to Dean’s face, smoke burning his eyes. It gave him an excuse to let tears out, like if it was the smoke in his eyes and the burn in his lungs that made him feel like shit and not the harrowing feeling that he had _no one_. He had given up smoking when their father died his senior year, but now that it was just him without any kid looking to him as a role model, there was no reason for him to not light one up.

The fumes of the passing cars filled his head with a heady feeling. It reminded him of days when he used to go under the hood of Dad’s Impala with dreams of going out on the road, free without a worry and without a fear. He could remember the scent of oil, that stained their clothes and followed them for days, tainting their hands despite the hours of scrubbing the skin. The mere memory was making Dean’s throat close up because he definitely didn’t have that anymore.

The sky above him was painted with a dark purple, stretching far until it bled into orange around the setting sun. It gave the city that view always shot for movies about some teenage runaway in New York City. Dean could see the stars if he tried hard enough, head thrown back and eyes squinted. The smoke of the cigarette floated up, twirling above him and Dean took it from his mouth, blowing. It left a dizzying feeling in his head, eyes fluttering almost shut so that his eyelashes brushed his cheekbones.

It was in that split second when his eyes were almost shut that a bright light flickered from the sky. Dean’s eyes flew open and he straightened up, watching as one of the stars that he had his eyes trained on, started to move, speeding across the sky in an impossible speed. _A shooting star._ Dean couldn’t remember the last time that he had even stopped to wish on one.

Maybe it was the dryness in his throat, or the weird aching feeling he was getting from feeling so…lonely, but he let his eyes fall shut.

_Please….God….or whatever’s out there….I’m tired of being so fucking alone. I just… please just let me have someone. I don’t care if they leave like everyone else. I just want someone even if it’s just for a moment._

The loud blaring sound of a car passing by jolted Dean out of his impromptu prayer and he scowled, shaking his head as he took a step away from the road. What had he been thinking? It wouldn’t do anyone any good if he died suddenly right now. It wouldn’t even be worth it; he’d most likely just break a couple of bones and then wake up with hospital bills up to his eyes. Sighing, he dropped the cigarette to the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his shoe. Just as he was about to turn, he noticed that the star he had wished upon was still moving, but it seemed… it seemed to be falling towards the earth.

It had curved away from the speedy path it had taken and towards the ground, burning brighter as it got closer. His mouth went dry. Without a second thought, he began running towards where it seemed to be heading, eyes trained on the big bright light. The star landed less than a mile from him, exploding with a strange bright blue explosion of dirt.

Some part of Dean felt he should stop now, but another part was urging him to continue forward. How many shitty movies had he seen on the television growing up of some stupid kid that met aliens or some other weird shit like that? And worst came to worst, Dean could say that he had seen a meteor and keep some part of it maybe. As he jogged to the crash site, he thought to himself how it was ironic that even his shooting star wish had let him down.

Dean started slowing down as he realized that there was no giant rock at the crash site. So far, the only thing he could see was lots of smoke coming from the hole where it had landed. He squinted, trying to see anything in the dark. As he got closer, he swear he could see something move.

“No freaking way.” Dean breathed to himself, almost tripping over himself as he ran to the giant hole. The ground was hot underneath him but he ignored it and slid down the slope and into the hole. In the middle of the hole, Dean could see the outline of a man. “Fuck, of course, I found an alien. Of fucking course.” He muttered to himself.

As he approached the prone figure, he took his phone out of his pocket and flipped it open so that the little bit of light that it offered helped him see that everything around the man was burned. Since all of his money went to Sam, he decided to buy a flipphone to save money. He shook his head; this was not the moment to think about things like that.

He got closer to the man, crouching down next to him. The man (alien?) was breathing, much to Dean’s relief, but he was completely and totally naked. Dean kept his eyes trained above the waist, and he let his eyes flicker across the man’s face for a sign of him being awake. His eyes were closed, dark lashes resting lightly on his pale cheeks. His cheekbones were high and pronounced and he had a strong jaw, but besides the slight singe in his jet-black hair, there was no sign of him falling from the sky. Dean looked up at the sky like if there was an open hole that he could see, but all that he saw was the dark almost night sky.

Standing up, he moved around the body not knowing if he should touch it. What if it exploded because of their different genetics or something? Then again, Dean couldn’t stay out here all night.

He leaned over the body, reaching for the man’s shoulder.

“Hey, uh, dude- “

Before he could touch him, the man’s bright blue eyes popped open and his hand shot up. Clutching Dean’s shoulder, he pushed the other man to the ground, crouching over him with a snarl on his lip and a cold look on his eyes.

“Hey, careful there, bud.” Dean breathed in harshly, all the air forced out of his lungs from the move. His back and shoulder burned from the heat of the ground, but he maintained eye contact with the alien. “Listen, calm down. You like crash landed here and I think you’re an alien. But you don’t have to worry, I’m not gonna hurt you or nothing.” He tried to pull his shoulder from the man’s grip, but it proved to be immoveable. Instead, the hand seemed to hold on tighter, and Dean was worried for a second that he had managed to get into some trap set up by aliens. But then the man’s bright—ridiculously bright, to be honest, it seemed to almost glow—eyes moved slowly across Dean’s face, like if he was trying to memorize his features.

“If you’re just gonna stare at me like some kind of—” Dean was cut off once again, this time by a hand covering his entire mouth, finally moving from his shoulder. He glared at him but shut his mouth. The man’s eyes locked onto his, and they stared at each other for longer than appropriate, and it made Dean flush.

The last time he had been so close to someone without them fucking his mouth was… it was a long time. In fact, now that Dean thought about it, the last time he had felt the touch of someone who wasn’t trying to fuck him immediately was when Sam had left for college and given him one last hug. Something about that made him want to cry. He breathed out hard through his nose and pushed the thought aside.

“Where am I?” the man said, breaking him out of his thoughts, letting his breath fall over Dean’s lips. It smelled like burnt marshmallows if that was possible.

“Well, you’re just outside of Lawrence, Kansas.”

“Kansas?”

“Yeah,” Dean cleared his throat. “On Earth, in case you’re some kind of weird alien thing.”

“Earth?” The man’s eyebrows came together in a confused manner. If Dean were honest, it was a little cute. “But I was in Heaven. How did I--?” The man cut himself off, leaning back so that Dean could sit up.

“Heaven?” Dean chuckled. “What? Are you like an angel or something?” The words slid off his tongue easily, but then he froze as the other’s eyes snapped to him. Fuck… he was in front of an angel. “Wait, so you’re like…an actual angel?”

The man’s jaw tightened and he nodded.

“Fuck—I mean, shoot.” Dean stumbled over his words, and he slapped a hand over his mouth to stop any more words from trickling out.

“My name is Castiel, and I am an angel of the Lord.” The other man said in a monotone voice.

“And what exactly is an angel of the Lord doing on the side of the highway in Lawrence, Kansas?” Dean asked, moving out from underneath him and standing up. He winced at the definite burns he had on the exposed skin at his wrists. The rest of his body just felt warm but he could tell some areas were going to sting next time he took a shower.

“I don’t know.” Castiel frowned, looking around him. “I’ve never come down to Earth. That is a job usually allowed to only my older siblings. I am just a warrior angel, guarding the heavens.” He looked down at his hands, like if they weren’t attached to his body.

“So were you like kicked out of heaven?” Dean’s voice went soft here.

“No!” Castiel looked offended at the thought. “I… I’m sure that this is my Father’s plan.” There was a rustling sound, coming from behind Castiel. A look of relief came over Castiel’s face and the tension Dean hadn’t noticed in the angel’s shoulder bled away. “I still retain my wings, so I have not been fallen.”

Two pairs of wings suddenly shimmered into view in front of Dean’s eyes and the human’s breath caught in his throat at seeing the long black feathers in front of him. The extended way above his head, arching to frame Castiel’s head like some kind of old portrait.

“That only leaves you.” Castiel moved to a sitting position, legs out in front of him, unabashed of his own nudity. “Why are you out here?”

“I was just smoking a cigarette.” Dean said, not wanting to tell an _angel of the Lord_ , which apparently was a thing, that he was gonna commit suicide before following what he thought had been a fallen star. Memories of Catholic iterations of how suicide was a mortal sin came back to him.

The angel frowned at him, looking at him like if he was looking into his very soul. Could angels read minds? God, he hoped not. There was something jarring about having this holy creature that was supposed to be this pure and innocent thing know that he had broken all of the rules that the Bible had ever outlined. How could he even stand in front of this being when yesterday night he had let two dudes spitroast him? Dean’s hands travelled down to the bruise they had left on his hip, a purple hand shaped mark that now felt like it burned. Castiel’s eyes followed it, like if he could see all the marks and scars that had been left in Dean’s fall from grace.

Dean sniffed and kicked a rock near his foot.

“Well unless you plan on staying in some church, you wanna come home with me?” Dean offered.

“Why would I need to move?” Castiel blinked, letting his head tilt in an oddly adorable way.

“Uh, well, I just thought that maybe you wouldn’t wanna sit in a hole in the middle of nowhere. But maybe that’s just me.” Dean threw his hands up in the air with a shrug, turning. He heard the sound of Castiel moving to get up. 

“I will come with you.” The angel said. There was a brief moment when Castiel winced as he stood up. One of his hands moved towards his side, and Dean moved towards him with a frown. As he got closer, Dean was able to see the wings better. In the dark, it had been hard to see the details but now that he was closer, he could see the mangled feathers that seemed to be burned and bloodied.

“Dude, you’re so not okay.” Dean leaned towards him with a frown on his face. One of hands lightly touched a feather that was out of place, shifting it back. A gasp escaped Castiel’s lips and in the next second, he had scrambled back from Dean’s touch, looking at him with bewildered eyes. Pushing down the implications of what that move meant, the other straightened, clearing his throat. “Well, this just confirms it. You can’t stay here when you’re injured like that. At least at my place you can take a bath or whatever.”

For a moment, it seemed like Castiel was going to refuse, staring at Dean before he took a step towards him, nodding.

* * *

And that is how Castiel, an angel of the Lord, ended up sitting on his couch awkwardly, eyes trained on Dean as he grabbed blankets from the closet. Luckily, Dean had a spare change of clothes in the back of his car that Cas could wear but they hung off of him. It didn’t seem to bother the angel so Dean just brought him like that.

It was when he stared pulling into the parking lot that Dean began doubting himself. What had he been thinking inviting an ANGEL to a shitty motel room? The more he thought about it the more embarrassed he got. Living in the same room for months had made him immune to how truly horrible it was. There were darkened stains on the walls, and Dean still had beer bottles on the kitchen table. It wasn’t that Dean was messy; it was just that it was hard to be sophisticated in a room that was cheap for obvious reasons.

How was Dean supposed to let an angel that had literally just been in heaven stay in his dingy motel room?

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this and want to see more, pls make sure to leave a comment! Thanks for reading!
> 
> [ Follow me on Twitter!! ](https://twitter.com/leimccartney)


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